


Bedtime Snack

by Karios



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Awkwardness, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Late Night Conversations, Snacks & Snack Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25282945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: A late-night stop in Sheffield.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Every Woman 2020





	Bedtime Snack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheseusInTheMaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/gifts).



> Thanks to cinnamongirl for betaing!

It was just past 2 am local Sheffield time when they arrived back on Earth. It had been a rough couple of days, not the morale-stomping kind, or even particularly dangerous, just tiring. Tiring enough for Yaz to have suggested that they might need a breather, and with a few nods of assent from Graham and Ryan, here they were. In Sheffield.

“Well this isn't right,” The Doctor said, needlessly, as they stepped out into the darkened street.

“Too early or too late?” Yaz asked.

“Early; I got the date right, It's just two in the morning.”

“Apparently the TARDIS wants our plans to include a kip,” Graham said. “That's all right then.”

The conversation kept moving along without further input from the Doctor. She was busy locking up and hoping there wasn’t an invasion incoming or grand plot unfolding that necessitated their arrival several hours early. Meanwhile, the others came to consensus about meeting up again some 31 hours later. Graham and Ryan promptly rushed off to plans that included "Mates and a pint and hoops" and all that mattered to the Doctor was that there was not really a place for her in any of it. She would be hard to explain.

So the Doctor wished them a good time. Then she was alone with Yaz. “What about you? This was your idea. Any big plans?”

Yaz shrugged. “I was going to have a meal with the fam, my other fam, but...”

“Not really the right time of day,” The Doctor concurred.

To the Doctor's surprise, Yaz just grinned. “Guess we'll have to use our super spy skills to sneak in and avoid waking anyone. Such a disappointment.”

The two of them set off down the street, and Yaz let them into the Khan family home, quietly and carefully. As a relatively new policewoman, Yaz had probably come home this late with some frequency before she was swept off to see the universe, but still, Yaz's thoughtfulness impressed the Doctor. By unspoken agreement, they made their way to and around the kitchen without turning on the lights.

Yaz pulled open the fridge. “Too late for the stove,” she muttered to its contents. Yaz emerged with a folded paper container. “No one will miss these.” She passed it to the Doctor, who popped open the lid, sniffed. There were cold noodles in some kind of pleasantly pungent sauce inside. A part of the Doctor’s brain couldn’t help but analyze the contents, cataloguing first the ingredients and then breaking those down into base chemical compounds. But she did her best to tune out this extraneous mental chatter, she’d rather watch Yaz. That sounds bad, she conceded even in her thoughts should any telepaths be happening by. She didn’t mean it like birdwatching, it wasn’t ‘oh look at the lovely little human.’ The Doctor just wanted to be in this moment, and the chemical composition of soy sauce would be there later. 

Yaz crossed to the cabinets, pulled down a biscuit tin, grabbed a pair of drinking glasses, and fished out a fork by feel. As much as the Doctor was enjoying watching Yaz putter about, it dawned on the Doctor that the room was quite dark for human eyes. She plucked the sonic from her pocket and flicked on a harmless setting. A soft yellow glow filled the room.

Yaz held out the biscuit tin toward the Doctor who juggled the sonic and noodle box into one hand and then plucked free a pair of biscuits with the other. She promptly crumbled both into the noodles, stirred them with a fork she knicked from Yaz. “Hey! I wanted some of those biscuit-free thanks,” Yaz complained, though her amused look cut the sting from the words.

“It adds needed crunch,” the Doctor protested. She held the noodles back out to Yaz. “Here, give it a try.”

Yaz did. Her face scrunched as she chewed. “This is weird. Terribly weird.”

“Oh I —”

“Also sort of perfect for an improvised midnight snack.” Yaz shook her head.

They passed the noodles and the tin back and forth until they'd both had their fill. The Doctor pitched the all-but-empty takeaway container into the bin. A sense of 'what now?' descended over the Doctor.

“How's life on the human side?” Yaz asked, and wasn't that thoughtful of her?

"A bit quiet," The Doctor said, and caught the apologetic look on Yaz's face before she could start. “That's not a bad thing. You were right. We could all use a break now and then.”

“Glad you agree,” Yaz said. She crossed to the sink, rinsed the forks off, reshelved the biscuit tin. 

The Doctor hadn't always agreed; she had often been too sad, too angry, too high and mighty, or too impatient to just enjoy a moment like this. She felt a pang of pity for all her former selves. All those missed moments. She considered saying something like that to Yaz.

But Yaz yawned and the moment was lost. “I think Graham was right about getting some sleep.”

“Oh, oh right, yeah. Sleep. I'll just —” The Doctor waved vaguely, half hoping Yaz would fill-in-the-blank.

Yaz did with, “You could stay. If you wanted, if there isn't —”

“There isn't,” The Doctor confirmed, with an awkward smile.

“Come on, then. Bedroom's this way.”

As she trailed after Yaz, The Doctor can see it, all the ways this night might go, all the possibilities swirling around them. Some of which, she was certain, were only products of her own imagination.

“Here,” Yaz whispered, tossing something toward the Doctor. “From my less impressive wardrobe.”

The Doctor caught the garment and examined it. A long shirt for sleeping in. It wasn't strictly necessary, since the Doctor didn't plan on sleeping, but she slipped carefully into the toilet in the hall to wash up and change into it anyway. The shirt was soft and it smelled nice.

The Doctor curled up in a chair in Yaz's room, and read a few of Yaz's books, and generally soaked in the feeling of being a guest.

* * *

In the morning, she and Yaz had breakfast with the rest of the Khan family. Yaz said, “You remember the Doctor.” And that was all it took for her to be drawn into the family's light-hearted teasing. The Doctor settled into it.

It was a bit like biscuit noodles. It was new, terribly weird, but also sort of perfect.


End file.
